


we could make the biggest waves

by sheepishlion



Category: One Direction (Band), The 1975 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mermaid Harry, pirate matty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6403123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepishlion/pseuds/sheepishlion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Matty grinned back before he even realized he was doing it. Harry’s teeth looked normal and decidedly unfit for tearing a throat out, so maybe that had subconsciously relaxed him. “Just my luck I met a mermaid and he’s the biggest loser in the sea.”</i> </p><p>  <i>Harry squinted at him and flicked his tail with more intent than before, jostling Matty and causing him to let out a startled yelp. “Watch it, Matty the pirate. I might be a loser, but I’m a loser with chutzpah,” he said, shaking his tail again, but this time Matty had a solid grip and moved with it.</i></p><p>  <i>“Chutzpah,” Matty repeated under his breath, shaking his head. Why does a mermaid know Yiddish?</i></p><p> <br/>Harry is a mermaid. Matty is a pirate. Can I make it any more obvious?</p>
            </blockquote>





	we could make the biggest waves

**Author's Note:**

> title - waves, kris allen
> 
> she is my hurricane  
> and i am her ocean  
> and we could make the biggest waves  
> 'cause she makes me move; she moves me

In retrospect, there were a lot of better decisions Matty could have made in his life. He could have decided to not join the crew of a ship with a captain known for his temper, or he could have chosen to not steal gold out of the captain’s quarters to pay off a gambling debt he’d acquired among the rest of the crew, or he could have decided he’s absolutely rubbish at rummy and not entered the tournament in the first place. And those were just the decisions he’d made in the past week! Imagine if he’d had enough sense years ago to avoid the pirate’s life completely - he was busy imagining this life himself as he was pushed by the tip of a sword closer to the edge of the plank. “I’m _going_ ,” he said, with a bit more attitude than someone in his position should probably have. “Let me die at my own pace, for christ’s sake."

This was his fourth plank walk in as many years. But the jeering crew didn’t need to know that. 

“You’ll die now,” the captain punctuated this sentence with another jab to Matty’s back, and he took a stumbling step forward. One more left.

“Fine! I’ll die now!” Matty threw up his hands in exasperation, buying himself a last half-minute to scan the waters around them and try to get his bearings. He was a strong swimmer. All he needed to know was which way to swim. He knew they were two days out from the last place they’d docked - with enough rocks to rest on he could probably make it there. “You pirates are so impatient. Don’t know why I got tangled up in this web. In the next life I’m going to be a preacher.” 

“Shut up.” The captain stomped his foot on the end of the plank, making it jump and shake under Matty’s feet. A bit dramatic, if you asked Matty, but then again - pirates. Sort of comes with the territory, he figured. 

“Sheesh, okay,” Matty said, with a roll of his eyes, and jumped. He had a brief moment on the fall down where he considered the fact that if he didn’t make it to land in time and drowned a horrible, watery death, perhaps he should’ve picked better final words than “sheesh.” Ah, well. Live and learn. 

He tucked his legs up under him to lessen the impact of the water (and, if he was honest, to make the biggest splash) and held his breath as he felt the unforgiving ocean engulf him. The rush of water around him was deafening and all the parts of him that had made impact with the surface of it stung sharply; Matty had to fight the instinctual urge to gasp for air. This part never really got any easier. He let the momentum of the drop carry him as low as it could before he felt the resistance and immediately pushed himself in the direction the ship had came from. It was best to stay underwater as long as he could - out of sight, out of mind - but he could already feel the burning in his lungs. He should really work on his breath control, he thought idly to himself, blinking his eyes open past the sting of salt water as he swam past the hull of the ship.

When he finally felt far enough away to be safe from any projectiles thrown his way by his former crew, he breached the surface with a sputter. “God- _fucking_ -damnit,” he muttered, allowing himself one final look back at the ship sailing away from him as he treaded water. “You’re all _pricks_!” He yelled hoarsely, taking comfort in those being much better last words. Heturned again, facing the endless blue in front of him - and behind him, and on all sides around him. He tried not to think of all the horrible creatures that lurked below the waves. Denial was always his best bet in these moments. He absolutely _could_ reach land before his body gave out from exhaustion. No doubt about it. He sighed softly, resisting the urge to waste his energy by thrashing about in an underwater temper tantrum, and started swimming again.

—  
It was closing on nightfall by the time Matty finally found a place he could rest. His whole body ached and burned, despite the multiple rest stops where he’d allowed himself to just float aimlessly. It was during one of these rests that he spotted a large formation of rocks off in the distance, a large enough island at least for him to lay on, and took off with renewed vigour. He could really use a nap, but even more than that he wanted to get out of the water before it got too dark to see below him. He didn’t _believe_ any of the horror stories that other pirates and sailors laboriously told in pubs and in hushed voices around crew’s quarters about sirens and monsters that lurked under the surface - he’d told a few of them himself, gesturing dramatically and only thinking a few lines ahead of what he was saying. He knew they were just old wives tales and dramatic retelling of shark attacks, but — a shadow passed by somewhere below Matty in the water and he shuddered — that was all.

Still, it was a relief to pull himself up onto the rock, shivering a bit in the cold of the evening air. It was just a rocky reef, only big enough for maybe three people to lie across it, but it was more than enough for Matty. Honestly, he’d slept on worse. He laid himself down, back pressed against a raised ledge for an added layer of security, and settled in for a long night.

—

When he woke up, Matty found himself twisted all around - his legs were up over the ledge he’d fallen asleep pressed against and his head was off the edge of the rock entirely. The very tips of his hair were dipped in the sea, sparkling softly with the morning sun. He blinked against the reflection of it in his eyes, sighing to himself. He could feel the remnant ache of his muscles from swimming the day previous and the new soreness of having slept on the rock. He stayed still in that position, staring out at the open waters in front of him. Should he keep swimming? Should he wait on this rock and hope a ship comes by and takes pity on a stranded soul? Should he just lay down and accept death? Matty giggled a bit at himself - if he’d accepted death when it was first handed to him in the form of an arrest warrant instead of talking himself out of it and onto a pirate ship he wouldn’t be in this situation at all. 

“What are you laughing about?” came a deep voice from behind him on the rock, cutting through the silence of the morning air and making Matty’s entire body startle. Instinctively he tried to rotate himself to look at the source of the voice, but the motion only served to upset his delicate positioning and the momentum pushed him off the rock and into the ocean. For a moment, Matty was sure that he’d just died of shock, and the afterlife was just being surrounded by swirling waves, trapped in the rush of motion for all eternity. The moment ended when Matty breached the surface, lungs dragging in air roughly as he scrabbled for purchase against the rock. Once he’d gained his bearings, he flung his hair out of his eyes to stare wide eyed at the boy perched along the stone surface. Or, wait — Matty scanned him wildly, taking him in feature by feature. His hair was long, almost all the way down his shoulders, cascading around him in waves and framing his pretty face like curtains. He had tattoos all over his torso and down his arm, unreadable markings and strange designs Matty couldn’t decipher, except for what looked like laurel leaves along his hips, leading to—

The boy cocked his head, blinking at Matty owlishly. “You’re weird,” he observed, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ears. Matty hadn’t taken in before how pretty his eyes were, bright and green, but only because he was a bit distracted by the _bloody freaking tail_.

“You’re a _mermaid_ ,” Matty responded, a bit shrilly. The boy grinned, nose scrunching, and flicked his tail where it was resting against the stone, long and glittering gold where the sun caught the scales.

“I’m _Harry_ ,” said the boy slowly, raising his voice in an identical imitation of the way Matty’s pitch had jumped. “What’s your name?” 

Instead of answering, Matty weighed his options. He knew what mermaids did to stranded sailors out at sea. He could either push off from the rock and try to make it away in the other direction, but he imagined he couldn’t outrun the thing ( _Harry_ , the voice in his mind filled in, almost wistfully, but he shoved that voice back down) in water. Like always, his best bet was to probably try to talk himself out of this. He pulled himself back up onto the rock, sliding as far to the edge away from Harry as he could without falling off again.

Harry tilted his head, flicking his tail towards Matty, making him jump again. “Helloooo?” 

Matty kept his eyes trained on the tail next to him, taking up most of the length of the rock, easily five feet. He tried not to imagine the power behind it, tried not to picture it wrapping around him or flinging him against the rock below. He swallowed audibly. “Uh, what?” 

“Your _name_?” Harry repeated, frowning now. “I finally meet a human and he can’t even talk. That’s not _fair_.”  

“I can talk,” Matty said quickly, defensively. “You’ve just freaked me out!” He realized perhaps vaguely insulting the murderous sea monster in front of him was not the best bet for his own survival - although the more he looked at Harry the less he looked like a murderous sea monster and the more he looked like… sort of a petulant puppy. Then again, Matty supposed that was probably the point. If mermaids looked as vicious as the stories, nobody would ever go near them. Not that Matty had a choice either way. “Er, my name’s Matty.” 

“Mat-ty,” Harry tested the name out slowly, drawing the t’s into their own syllables. “Arr, ahoy, matey, I’m Matty,” he squawked, sounding more parrot than pirate. “You are a pirate, aren’t you?”

“Well, I was,” Matty answered, shifting minutely away from Harry’s tail, although he couldn’t stop himself from flicking his eyes towards it - _could never resist something shiny_ , he thought. “Don’t think I am now. Not til I get on another crew, anyway.” 

Harry frowned. “You are what you are, Matty the pirate. A crew doesn’t make a pirate. The pirates make the crew. You can touch it.” 

Matty snapped his gaze back to Harry’s face. “Wh - what?”

“My tail. You can touch it.” Before Matty could react, Harry had flung his tail over and it landed with a thump in Matty’s lap. It wasn’t as heavy as he was expecting. Harry gestured expectantly at Matty, whose hands were hovering above his head uselessly. “Go on then.” 

Matty swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. “Okay, um, should I go with the grain, or…?” He brought his hands down and now they wavered a few inches above Harry’s tail. He glanced up at Harry again, who’d scrunched his face up in a universal sign of ‘what the hell are you talking about?’, which was a look Matty was very familiar with. Well, if he was going to get eaten by a mermaid, he might as well touch the thing’s - ( _Harry,_ the voice in his head was more insistent now) goddamn tail first. He took a deep breath in and closed the distance, skimming his fingertips lightly down the scales. They were cool to the touch and seemed to follow the motion, dipping under his fingers ever so slightly. He was suddenly struck by curiosity - did they come off, what was the skin like they were covering, or were there just layers of scales all the way through, did they ever change colour, do all mermaids have the same colour tails, how do they _move_ , how does Harry move it, what does he look like _—_

With his mind racing, Matty almost missed the way Harry’s breathing had stilled suddenly. Matty looked up to ask if maybe it hurt, but the question got caught in his throat when he caught sight of Harry’s face. His expression was almost unreadable; eyebrows drawn together tight, mouth open, eyes focused single-mindedly on where Matty’s hands were making contact with his tail. When Matty’s hands stilled, Harry’s eyes shot to Matty’s, burning with the same intensity.

“Does - it hurt?” Matty stammered under the pressure of Harry’s gaze, hands frozen where they were. 

“No,” Harry said in the softest voice Matty had heard from him. “I’ve never - nobody’s touched it before, really. Didn’t know it felt… like that. Shivery.”

“Nobody?” Matty asked incredulously, dragging his hands down the length of it he could reach, watching how it twitched under the motion. That was a bit mesmerizing, if he was honest. He did it again. 

“‘Ve never met a human before,” Harry mumbled, dragging his eyes back to Matty’s hands. “Mermaids don’t go around stroking each other’s tails.” 

“You should,” Matty commented idly, sliding his hands around to the underside, and Harry lifted his tail slightly to accommodate. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, closing his eyes. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting.” 

“There are _mermaid meetings_?” Matty asked, delighted immediately at the thought of an underwater boardroom.  

Harry opened one eye and gave Matty an impressive dead stare. “No.”  


There was a beat, and Matty frowned deeply, the boardroom image he’d imagined going up in bubbles. Harry cracked a grin, like he could see it too. “Sorry to disappoint. Maybe we meet only under full moons and we chant in tongues and sacrifice virgins to underwater volcanoes and I’m just not invited.” 

Matty grinned back before he even realized he was doing it. Harry’s teeth looked normal and decidedly unfit for tearing a throat out, so maybe that had subconsciously relaxed him. “Just my luck I met a mermaid and he’s the biggest loser in the sea.” 

Harry squinted at him and flicked his tail with more intent than before, jostling Matty and causing him to let out a startled yelp. “Watch it, Matty the pirate. I might be a loser, but I’m a loser with chutzpah,” he said, shaking his tail again, but this time Matty had a solid grip and moved with it. 

“ _Chutzpah_ ,” Matty repeated under his breath, shaking his head. Why does a mermaid know _Yiddish_?  

There were a few moments of what was almost a comfortable silence, Matty absently playing with Harry’s tail, tracing his fingers around the scales to Harry’s soft sighs and shifts. Matty couldn’t figure out what Harry’s game was - he’d never heard that mermaids particularly liked to play with their food beyond seduction, and he didn’t feel especially seduced. There was no reason Matty could think of for Harry to not just kill him while he slept unless he was feeling cruel, and Harry didn’t seem the cruel sort. Harry’d said he’d never met a human before, and god knows why, Matty believed him. Was he just nervous about his first - Matty shuddered slightly - kill? Had he never met a _live_ human before? “Hey, Harry?”  

Harry let out a non-committal “mhnh” from where he’d taken to lying down across the rock.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

Harry propped himself up on his elbows, frowning intensely at Matty. He pulled his tail back and away out of Matty’s hands, sliding it into the water off the edge, dangling his fin into the water like he planned on pushing in and off into the blue. The idea of Harry swimming away started a little panic in Matty’s chest and he couldn’t figure out why. “I just mean, like, I’ve heard the stories—” 

“Stories aren’t always true.” Harry said, staring at the water steadfastly. “At least they aren’t always true for everyone. Are you hungry?” 

Matty was, actually, but he’d been trying not to think about it much. He was at least a full day of swimming away from eating unless he developed a taste for raw fish and very good hand eye co-ordination. His stomach rumbled at the thought. 

Harry nodded as if that was all the answer he needed. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” Without leaving time for Matty to respond, he launched forward into and under the water. Matty could only gape, watching the blur of Harrys sinewy form, bending and twisting to propel himself onwards into the blue until he disappeared from view.

“Where would I go?!” Matty called out weakly to the still water in front of him. Talking to a mermaid that’s not there. That was a new low in Matty’s life. 

—

Matty could’ve taken the opportunity to get away, he realized belatedly, after he’d been sitting on the rock waiting for two hours. He would’ve had plenty of time to swim in any direction but the one Harry went, and unless mermaids were excellent trackers and Harry was particularly determined to find him (which to be fair Matty wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t be) he could’ve maybe made it to land, or at least a rock without a mermaid on it. He tried to tell himself he could’ve drowned and never hit land if he’d kept going, and it was always better the devil you know, but even to his own mind he didn’t sound convincing. He wondered if maybe mermaids had, like, a vampire’s glamour ability, and maybe Harry had bewitched him while he slept - but then again, it had been two hours, and he didn’t feel any different than he had before. How long did glamours last for?  

Matty’s stomach grumbled in response, but it had been responding in kind almost nonstop since Harry had left. Maybe he could convince himself that he was too weak from hunger to swim away, but he was even less passionate about that excuse. If he was honest with himself, which Matty tried to be as little as possible to maintain his own sanity, he didn’t want to leave and have nothing but a story about escaping a mermaid. Harry told him to wait where he was, so he would. It was as simple as that.

The more time passed, the more Matty started to worry that maybe Harry wasn’t coming back - or worse, maybe Harry never existed at all. Maybe Matty’s brain was fried from the sun and creating beautiful boys with tails for Matty to look at so at least he’d die happy. It was a bit cruel of his brain to create Harry and then take him away, but it wouldn’t be the first time Matty’s brain was a bit cruel. 

It was going on hour three when something finally broke the monotony of staring out at the ocean until Matty’s eyes blurred over and he couldn’t tell the water from the sky. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining it - the unmistakable shape of a small boat, no bigger than a canoe, zipping through the water towards the rock at an alarming pace. Matty jerked up from the belly-down position he’d assumed, pushing himself onto his knees to stare as the boat rocketed forward. As it got closer, Matty could make out a line of rope coming from inside the boat trailing into the water, taut like it was being pulled. He put two and two together just as the boat began to slow until it was mere feet away from the rock. 

Harry’s head emerged from the water next to the boat, grinning wide. He brought up one hand, clutching the end of rope that wasn’t tied around the seat in the boat proudly. “I’m back!”

Matty choked on whatever words he would’ve said, stunned at both the relief flooding through him at the sight of Harry and at the gills visible along his jawline that were closing on exposure to the air. He tore his eyes away to stare at the canoe, which contained a simple wicker basket. Sticking out of the corner of the basket was a few squares of a red and white checkered blanket. “Is- did you-” Matty started, voice creaking at lack of use. He cleared his throat, a smile breaking out on his face without permission. “Did you bring me a picnic?”

“No,” Harry said, grin almost blindingly bright. “I brought you a boat. There might be a picnic in the boat. It must’ve been in there already. I’m just gonna toss it.”

Matty’s stomach rumbled angrily at the thought and Harry laughed, bright and loud in the silence of the empty waves that had been keeping Matty company. Matty found himself laughing in kind, reaching to the hull of the boat to pull it in close enough to grab the basket. Harry busied himself with trying to lift himself up onto the rock, but it was clear he wasn’t lifting himself high enough to swing his tail up and onto it. “D’ya need help?” Matty offered, setting the basket onto the rock. 

“No,” Harry said, struggle evident in his voice. “I got this.” He clearly did not have it, but Matty wasn’t about to argue with him. “Just- ugh, hold on,” he said, dropping himself back into the water completely. Matty could make out his form under the water for a few seconds before it became enveloped in air bubbles, surrounding him so quickly and fiercely that Matty couldn’t contain a yell of surprise. God, at what point in this day would he stop feeling two seconds from a heart attack? Before he could even finish the thought, Harry had re-merged from the water again, hoisting his torso over the ledge of the rock and swinging one of his legs over as well, climbing the rest of the way up.

Wait. One of his -

“What the _fuck_?” Matty squawked. Now that he had them, Harry was almost all leg, long and powerful, and he was also naked, which was a bit distracting. 

“What?” Harry asked, the picture of innocence and not seeming to mind his nudity as Matty quickly averted his eyes. Harry’s grin got wider. “Don’t flatter your species, Matty the pirate, lots of things have legs.” 

“Lots of-” Matty sputtered, and Harry laughed again, cutting him off. Harry reached past him for the basket, dragging it between them. He started pulling out food, sandwiches and fruit and, blessedly, bottles of water, happily setting them down on the blanket beneath. Matty’s hunger won over his astonishment, and besides, he figured if he was going to get used to crazy shit, ‘ _mermaids exist_ ’ sort of lessened the impact of ‘ _and they also can have legs_.’ Matty grabbed for a sandwich greedily, shoving it into his mouth without caring much what was in it. “How’d you get this food?” He asked around a mouthful.

“Stole it,” Harry answered simply, taking a bite out of his own sandwich. “People leave lots of stuff in the open when they think nobody’s around.”

It reassured Matty to see Harry eat something that wasn’t human flesh. “Same with the boat?”

Harry nodded, humming around his food. “I can pull you to shore when we’re done here if you want,” he offered, sounding a bit like he was forcing the words out. 

“Thank you,” Matty said, equally as reluctant. “Like, for the food and the boat and, uh,” _not killing me_ , “everything else. I’d probably be doing the dead man’s float if I hadn’t found food and water today.”

“You’re like forty minutes from land,” Harry replied casually, shrugging it off. “You’d have been fine. You’re a pirate; you’re born for the seas.”

“Out of the two of us I’m not the one born for the seas,” Matty teased, reaching out with his foot to nudge Harry’s thigh, partly out of desire to confirm that his legs were real and partly because he just wanted to touch him. “Forty minutes to land only matters if you know which way land is. I’d be swimming in circles for three days on me own.”

“Nothin’ wrong with swimming in circles. It’s all I do all day,” Harry said, a hint of sadness in his tone. Matty immediately felt flooded with guilt for putting that in his voice, even if he didn’t know why. 

“How come you’re not off with your mermaid family doing mermaid things?” Matty asked, aiming for lighthearted. “Eating fish, seducing sailors. Maybe the other way around. You know?”

Harry laughed, but it wasn’t anything like his barking laughter from before. This one sounded bitter, humourless. “Got kicked out of my mermaid family.”

“Shit,” Matty muttered, shoving the crust of his sandwich in his mouth to stop himself from saying anything even more stupid. It didn’t stop him. “Why?”

“Didn’t wanna eat sailors,” Harry answered simply, still not meeting Matty’s eye, but he did raise an eyebrow. “Or seduce fish,” he added drily, and Matty laughed loudly in an attempt to break the sour mood he’d accidentally pulled onto them. “Tribes don’t take too well to softhearts like me. There’s not a lot of mermaids like that, and the ones that are don’t stick around.”

“Well,” Matty said, clearing his throat. “I’m glad you’re like that. Even if they weren’t. You’re the only kind of mermaid I’d wanna meet. The kind with chutzpah.”

Harry cracked a smile at that. Matty felt the warmth of it like the sun. He was so fucked. 

“How come you don’t go on land, then? You’ve got a nice pair of legs, why not show them off?”

“Dunno,” Harry shrugged, wiggling his toes. It almost looked like he was blushing, if Matty didn’t know better. “Where would I go on land? Naked kid with no money’s not gonna exactly get himself a table at a fancy restaurant.” 

“I’ve got money,” Matty said suddenly. He patted his hips, where his coin purse was tucked safely into his sewed pocket. It jangled reassuringly.

“Um,” Harry glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Congratulations?” 

“No, I mean,” Matty started, getting excited now, “when we get to shore, I can go buy you some clothes, and _I_ can get you a table at a fancy restaurant. As a thank you!”

Harry stared at him, wide eyed, face slowly breaking out into a grin. “Are you serious? You’d do that for me?”

"Are you kidding? How many guys get to say they took a mermaid for dinner?” Matty nudged Harry’s thigh with his toes again, and Harry clapped in excitement. Matty didn’t add anything about not wanting to say goodbye to Harry, but somehow, he didn’t think he had to. How many pirates got to say they befriended a mermaid? Matty grinned to himself and ignored the flutter in his chest.

“Let’s go then! Finish your food!” Harry reached for a water bottle and an apple, shoving them into Matty’s hands. He fumbled with them for a few seconds, which was too long for Harry, apparently, who pushed him in the direction of the boat floating idly next to the rock. “Eat on the way!”

Matty laughed, eyes crinkling as he watched Harry stand up with all the grace of a baby sea turtle and fling himself into the water. He was engulfed by bubbles again, and once they cleared, Matty could make out the shimmer of his scales beneath the waves. Matty shook his head in awe, laughing, then gestured for Harry to come over and hold the boat still so he could clamour into it. “Alright, Tails. Let’s do this,” he said once he was in, tossing the rope to Harry and making sure it was tied tightly. He didn’t even register the nickname, or how easily it came to him, but Harry giggled nonetheless. 

“Aye aye, captain,” Harry splashed Matty playfully. “Hold on tight, okay?” he instructed, immediately dropping below the surface and taking off. There was a half second delay, and then the boat jerked forward, nearly tipping Matty over backwards. He shouted, voice cracking embarrassingly, and even though there’s no way they could hear each other with Harry in the water swimming that fast, he would’ve _sworn_ he’d heard Harry laugh.

—

It took no time at all for them to reach land, a small seaside village Matty had vaguely seen on the map on his old ship, and Harry hid himself under the dock while Matty hopped ashore and found the nearest clothing store. He had no idea what size Harry was, or what he’d like, so he went as similar to his own taste and size as possible, hurrying through the whole process. 

He helped Harry up onto the dock, quickly handing him the trousers, which ended up only coming to his ankles (“I’ll be safe if there’s a flood,” Harry said with a wink. Matty grinned and shoved at him, not letting the wink affect him. His hands connecting with Harry’s bare chest might’ve affected him though.) and a loose blouse, which Harry only bothered to button the bottom button on. Harry beamed with excitement, and it was contagious. Matty found himself near giddy as they walked through the village, pointing out stores and dogs and people as Harry eagerly took it all in. Harry kept a tight grip on Matty’s arm, which may have contributed to his giddiness, but Matty did his best to ignore it. 

It was dark by the time they had walked around most of the village, Harry and Matty both suppressing yawns as they chattered on excitedly. “Hey,” Matty suggested, cutting himself off some tangent about how cats were considered good luck on pirate ships and given an honorary rank as first mate (total bullshit - which he _knew_ Harry knew, but he appreciated being allowed to ramble as long as it made Harry laugh). “Let’s go back to that inn a couple blocks back. We can get food and sleep.” Matty had already spun them around before he realized - maybe Harry wanted to go home. His stomach dropped. “Unless, um, unless you wanna get back to the water. That’s fine too. Totally fine. I can get us to the docks. Just follow the sounds of seagulls,” he joked, but even before it was out of his mouth he could hear it falling flat.

Harry was quiet for a moment. He stared out into the direction of the sea, and Matty could hear the gears turning. “I’ll stay,” he said quietly, and Matty’s heart skipped a beat. “We can stay here as long as we want to,” he added on, and Matty’s heart made up for the skipped beat by going doubletime.

“Yeah,” he agreed in the same soft tone, trying to smother his grin. It didn’t mean _anything_ , he told him - Harry liked him, sure, but he was also the only human Harry had ever met. Maybe Harry just likes _humans_. Best not to flatter himself.

They walked back to the inn in comfortable silence, and whenever Matty snuck a glance at Harry he was met with a shy smile. They’d spent the whole day together, and Matty was pretty sure Harry could rip limbs off bare handed, but he felt - comfortable, with Harry, in a way he hadn’t felt on any of the many ships he’d called his home over the past decade. Anchored. 

Matty stayed true to his word and took Harry to the restaurant section of the inn, laughing at Harry’s excitement over spaghetti and telling him stories of when he used to work as a cook at an inn like this before he got caught pocketing some of the money. He spotted a NOW HIRING sign posted on the bulletin board and filed it away. Probably not, but…

When they finally made it to their room, Matty felt the weight of what had happened crash into him like a shipwreck. The plank, the day’s worth of swimming, sleeping on a rock - surprisingly meeting a mermaid didn’t land on his list of stressors. As he watched Harry dive into the bed and starfish over the sheets, Matty figured maybe it wasn’t that surprising. “Sorry, uh, they only had single rooms left, so, um, we can either share the bed or I can take the floor—”

“Share,” Harry said, although it was muffled by a face full of pillows. “I want more stories.” 

Matty grinned, throwing himself onto the bed and laughing when it made Harry jump. “Get under the covers then. I’ll tell stories til we fall asleep.” 

Harry rushed to get himself underneath, kicking Matty not just a couple times in the mess of limbs. Matty kicked back, leading to a bit of a tussle, both of them breathless and giggling by the time they got under the sheets. Matty was hyper aware of how close they were, could feel Harry’s breathing on his neck, and instantly found his heart had started racing again. 

Suddenly Harry was everywhere - his legs tangled up with Matty’s, his hands gently gripping the edge of Matty’s shirt in an aborted fight tactic, his body radiating heat next to Matty’s, his face only inches away on the pillow next to him. “Matty,” he said, barely above a whisper. 

“Harry,” Matty spoke just as softly, itching to touch him. In the quiet of their room, it became impossible to keep ignoring this like he had been - how beautiful Harry was, how sweet, how close. “I’m going to make a bad decision,” Matty announced, leaning in painstakingly closer, giving Harry time to react if he wanted to. 

“What else is new?” Harry grinned, pushing forward the remaining distance, lips meeting Matty’s in a kiss. Matty’s heart jumped in his chest, more powerfully than any plank walk or day spent out on the water had ever made it. It almost scared him, almost made him wonder if maybe there’d been some truth to his glamour theory, but he knew - deep in his mind, where he kept all the things he knew were true - Harry was good. Harry was maybe the best thing he’d ever managed to touch. Maybe he was dangerous, but dangerous by itself meant nothing. 

Matty pulled Harry in so they were flush against each other, hands flying to touch as much of him as he could, uncover as much skin as possible. Harry seemed to have similar ideas, pulling at Matty’s clothes inexpertly, huffing into Matty’s mouth whenever he got particularly frustrated with the process. “It’s easier when you’re naked all the time,” he whispered, pulling away to tug Matty’s shirt over his head. He leaned in to trail kisses up Matty’s neck slowly once the shirt was out of the way.“Humans should be naked all the time.” 

“Mm,” Matty hummed, tilting his neck so Harry could have better access to his throat. Matty shivered at a scrape of teeth, gripping Harry’s hips tighter. “I’ll bring it up at the next meeting.” 

That earned him a playful nip where his neck met his shoulder, and Matty laughed breathlessly.He was tired through his bones, but some things were worth being tired for. He pushed forward, rolling them so Harry was flat on his back, Matty straddling his hips. “Now, I don’t know what mermaids do,” Matty started, leaning forward to give Harry a lingering kiss. When he pulled away, he started trailing kissing down Harry’s throat, his chest, his stomach, as Harry’s breathing got heavier. One of Matty’s hands went to trace the outline of Harry’s dick, already hard through his trousers. 

“The same things humans do, you idiot,” Harry grinned, tilting his hips up, which made it easier for Matty to tug his trousers down. “Just wetter.” 

“Sounds like a challenge,” Matty laughed, pressing one soft kiss to the hollow of Harry’s hip, along one of the laurels. Harry started on a comeback, but it got cut off by a low moan as Matty  licked a wet strip up his cock and then lowered his mouth around it. He tasted — well, like dick, but the salt of his skin seemed more ocean than human. Maybe Matty was imagining it. He didn’t much care. Harry groaned his name above him, sliding his hands through Matty’s curls, and Matty thought - maybe this is what it feels like when waves crash against the shore.

Matty was a strong swimmer, but sometimes, he thought, it might be better to let yourself drown.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic since i used to write in first person about kissing bert mccracken so be thankful at the very least it's better than that! you can find me on tumblr at haztrology! blame bec if you hate it 'cause i don't want to hear it!!!


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